


Assorted Flavors

by Ornament_of_Rhyme



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-11-28 11:52:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11417379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ornament_of_Rhyme/pseuds/Ornament_of_Rhyme
Summary: Yuuri,Viktor tells me you've been in a slump lately. No one likes to see you down, least of all Plisetsky. Have you noticed yet?Please accept this as my get well soon present!! ;-)Enjoy.Chris ♥





	Assorted Flavors

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, it's been several months since I was really into YOI, so I can't say for certain how in character this is (especially Chris' notes--Sorry, Chris, I don't remember what you sound like), but I hope it will be a nice read for you anyway. Dedicated to the fabulous writers and artists of the Yuriyuu ship!

"Yurio." Viktor skated to a pristine halt on the ice, peering over the barrier at Yuri.  
  
The young man looked up from his phone with stony eyes.  
  
"Has Yuuri texted back yet?"  
  
Yuri glanced over the drop down menu on his phone, as though he didn't already know the answer, and replied, "No."  
  
Viktor shrugged it off with a vacant look that Yuri knew masked the vengeance which he, as Yuuri's coach, would gladly take if that slow Katsudon didn't show up to practice.  
  
"Call him, would you?" the man said, sliding away on his skates.  
  
With a sigh—the wave of Katsudon's punishments had a tendency to splash Yuri as well these days, what with all their time together—and a speed dial, Yuri was listening to a prolonged ring as he waited for Katsudon to pick up his phone.  
  
After what seemed to be a disrespectfully long time, and just as a scathing message was brewing in his mind, a loud crack sounded in Yuri's ear, followed by a hissed, _"Shit."_ and then a quieter scuffle.  
  
Eventually, on the other side of the line, Katsudon croaked, "Hello?"  
  
"Viktor is going to ruin you if you skip practice."  
  
"Oh," Yuuri groaned. " _Practice._ I-I can't make it, I'm too sick."  
  
Yuri frowned, and between Katsudon's breathing heavily into the phone and Viktor's ice pacing, he didn't know which was more the cause. "I think he's ready to make you come dead or alive."  
  
"Please, just tell him I need to get over this and then I'll do all the practicing he wants. I can't make it." Then, as if to refuse any more arguments, Yuuri hung up.  
  
Yuri's immediate reaction was to smirk. They all knew Viktor had a lot of pent up frustration lately, so this incipient shitstorm was one that Yuri thought might be well worth getting in on. He liked to see Yuuri squirm.  
  
But the smirk didn't hold for long. Yuuri, whatever was wrong with him, didn't sound good. His voice shifted between raspy and suppressed, and his breathing was harsh over the line. He wanted to deny that he was worried for the Katsudon, but he knew his feelings well enough after these last several years; Yuuri was a priority.  
  
Yuri began unlacing his skates.  
  
Viktor descended on him in an instant. "What are you doing? What did he say?"  
  
The nice thing about Viktor not being his coach was that in times like this, Yuri could do whatever the hell he wanted.  
  
He went to retrieve his kicks and jacket, tossing over his shoulder, "Going to get him."  
  
Viktor didn't have time to respond before he was out the door.  
  


_(§) (§) (§)_  


  
With Yuuri and Viktor's (and his, too, it seemed anymore. How long has he been staying there?) shared flat not far from the Katsuki family home, Yuri almost dreaded to enter the flat and find some of Yuuri's family making themselves at home. They weren't so hesitant to pull him into their conversations and hijinks anymore, which he found kind of annoying. In a way, they took both he and Viktor in as family fairly early on. He supposed it was better than if they hated him.  
  
Fortunately, Yuri managed not to run into anyone in the flat, save for Viktor's gormless dog, but just in case someone popped out of the woodwork he made a beeline for Yuuri's bedroom. The door was closed tight, its broken jamb acting as a sort of lock, but Yuri and Viktor had discovered the secret to budging it open. With a lift, a solid shoulder, and a tug to the side, he was inside the shadowy room. The edges of the curtains only barely filtered in traces of the sun outside.  
  
There was a large organic lump of blanket on Yuuri's bed with a foot sticking out the end.  
  
"This better be good," Yuri nearly said as greeting, but for the soft sniffling emanating from the lump. Instead, he closed the door behind him and rounded the bed. On this side, there was a head of black hair showing free of the blanket.  
  
Carefully, Yuri lifted a corner of the blanket. What he found was in fact Katsudon, who squinted up at him and groaned.  
  
"Now I'm seeing things too!" he whined, burying his face again. His voice muffled. "Of course it would be you. Go away, Yurio."  
  
The whole miserable display was swiftly raising Yuri's alarm, not that he would let it show.  
  
"I'm not your imagination, Katsudon."  
  
"Yes you are. I can't stop thinking about you," the other said into his pillow.  
  
Yuri snatched Katsudon by the wrist, making the man jolt and look at him with more aware eyes.  
  
"Yuri..." Katsudon's hand slipped from his grasp so it could help him prop himself up. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"You're sick." The young man shifted on his feet. "I guess you weren't lying." As though he ever truly thought that were the case.  
  
Seeing Katsudon's face more clearly, Yuri could pick out everything off about it. His eyes were irritated from crying, and his lashes were clumped together. There was red high in his cheeks, and a sheen of sweat which made him look waxy. However, the dazed glaze over his eyes was what worried Yuri the most. Something about it all seemed...off. Like there was more to this than a bad cold.  
  
Unbidden, his hand reached out again, this time to feel the heat of Yuuri's face. "What happened?" he asked.  
  
"It's nothing," Katsudon hurried to say, ducking away from his hand. "I just need to rest."  
  
Katsudon's duck reminded Yuri that he was far too close for comfort. He took a step back, and something sticky squished underfoot.  
  
Together, they looked down at the mess. It was a box of chocolates, open and toppled from the nightstand, surely. Currently the orange cream filling of one of the chocolates oozed into his sock.  
  
Looking between the candy and the Katsudon, pieces started to click together in Yuri's mind.  
  
"Katsudon... These better not be from a fan."  
  
"No! I'm not that stupid," the other said. "It's from Christophe."  
  
Yuri growled. "That's even worse."  
  
"What? Why?"  
  
Discarding his socks, Yuri said, "Never take candy from that lecher. It's always a prank. I can't believe no one's told you."  
  
Yuuri struggled to sit up fully. "A prank?"  
  
"The poison changes every time, but it's always hidden in his 'gifts'. Everyone gets one eventually... Casually drop the word 'laxative' around JJ sometime. See what happens." The blond paused, then pondered, "I wonder why he didn't pull this sooner. There's no way you wouldn't have fallen for it."  
  
"I couldn't just throw it all out," Yuuri argued. "The price on the box was expensive! And it's a big box!"  
  
"You're such a pig, Katsudon!"  
  
"I know!"  
  
A momentary silence fell, then Yuri was reaching for his phone.  
  
"What are you doing?" He ignored Yuuri's question as he prepared to call Viktor.  
  
He was just lifting it to his ear when Katsudon cried, "No wait!" and lunged from the bed, tripping over the blanket entangling his legs. Yuri didn't have time to prepare before the two of them were sprawled out on the floor.  
  
Katsudon wasted no time scrabbling for the cell phone and ending the call.  
  
"What the hell?" Yuri shoved at Katsudon's heavy body atop his, then froze when something hard dragged against his stomach. He stared up at Yuuri, who was bright red and panting. The older man scurried away from Yuri.  
  
"S-sorry. I don't want anyone else to know about this," he explained. But Yuri was hung up on the erection Yuuri was trying to hide.  
  
"Is that from the chocolate?" he asked carefully, hiding behind his blasé composure.  
  
Yuuri covered his face. "I think so. I've never felt so... turned on before."  
  
Yuri tried to process the situation, but all he could think about was the sudden intimacy forced upon them. It was like one of his fantasies come to life. Fantasies that he never expected to face in reality.  
  
He attempted to quash down his own responding desire, inappropriate as it was to harbor--always had been--and willed his pulse to slow.  
  
"Yurio?" Yuuri prodded meekly.  
  
Yuri got to his feet and pulled Katsudon up just the same. He followed sluggishly as Yuri guided him back onto his bed.  
  
"Why are you doing this to me?" the blond muttered to the universe. This was a test of willpower that he wasn't prepared to face. Yuuri's presence was always a beacon in the room, distracting him, but now it was thick and heady and consuming like a fog, not calling his attention so much as commanding it.  
  
"You can go," Yuuri said. "I'll get through it. But please don't tell anyone."  
  
Yuri watched the tent in the other's pajama pants where precome was starting to soak through. The blond's body was eager to react to the sight. Katsudon gazing at him through heavily lidded eyes wasn't helping either.  
  
Yuuri just laid there, practically exposed to him, with only shambles of shame appearing to keep him from touching himself. It bordered on obscene.  
  
It was when Katsudon started squirming under his scrutiny, repeating that Yuri could leave, that his desires wrestled control from his mind. The blond swung a knee over Yuri's thighs and levered himself on to the bed. Yuuri went still beneath him.  
  
"What? What?" was all Katsudon could say.  
  
Yuri looked him over again, drinking in the view and searching for a solid reason to hop off the bed and catch a flight back to Russia. Suddenly all of the reasons he held so tightly to in the past didn't outweigh what he really wanted. Yuuri was prone beneath him looking like the embodiment of sex, and Yuri was only inches away from the relationship he had been craving for so long. Well, an aspect of the relationship he had been craving.  
  
The longer he looked his fill, the weaker his self-control became, but he couldn't make himself move away.  
  
He was caught by Yuuri's eyes and met them. The passion he saw there may have been his own projection, but it succeed in shattering the last of his constraint.  
  
"Shit," Yuri hissed under his breath. He hesitated a moment longer before reaching for the waist of Katsudon's pants.  
  
"W-what are you doing?" Yuuri leaned up on his elbows.  
  
"Helping."  
  
"You really don't have to!" When Katsudon went to intercept, Yuri batted his hand away.  
  
"Were you going to do it yourself, or were you just going to keep crying?" Yuri winced internally at his own biting tone. That wasn't likely to soothe the other's nerves.  
  
For his part, Yuuri's jaw clenched, and his eyes darted to the side. "I would have done it eventually," he murmured.

The window for Yuri to wash his hands of this problem was closing; he could sense it. But it was too late to back out of this, he decided. His willingness already spoke for his feelings enough that this was, in his eyes, an all or nothing scenario. His resolve on this was steel.  
  
Somehow his hands remained steady when he slid Yuuri's pants and underwear down his hips, revealing the older man's dripping erection. It rested rigid against his stomach, begging for his attention.  
  
Yuri couldn't help but stare. After all this time, after all these years of his pathetic lovesickness, this was happening. Yuuri Katsuki lay aching with want beneath him.  
  
The man watched him, captivated, as Yuri finally took his cock in hand. He adjusted to the weight of it, then, just to feel it, ran his thumb from the base of it to the tip where he dipped his fingertip into the precome.  
  
Yuuri keened. "Yuri--"  
  
The sound of his name--his actual name--passing through this man's lips spurred him on. He gained the confidence to peer up at Yuuri and leaned in to trail his tongue up the same path his thumb had just a moment before.  
  
With a jerk from his hips, Yuuri cried out a tumble of words in Japanese.  
  
Though he didn't know what was said, Yuri was immediately hooked on the sound. More than ever, he wished he had begun to learn Yuuri's native language sooner so he could understand the words now, in the moment. He made a mental note to research their meaning layer, since they were undoubtedly going to play on a loop in his head indefinitely.  
  
Recently, Yuri took the initiative to finally start learning Japanese. No one else knew, and even if they did, he wouldn't have given them the true reason: that he wanted to share this ability with his Japanese friend. Since the first fanciful conception of this idea, he occasionally lingered over the mental image of Yuuri's surprise when it was revealed to him. Then he would tuck it away in shame that he was so desperate to connect more with the other man.  
  
Such shame couldn't dream to shake him now.  
  
He wasted no time positioning himself firmly between Yuuri's legs. He wanted the taste of Yuuri again, even as daunting as the task was. In the hope of staving off embarrassment, he took it slow, taking only the head of Yuuri's cock into his mouth. The small yet significant feedback sounds coming from the man encouraged him to continue.  
  
Yuri glanced up at the man, only to meet his dark eyes. Holding the gaze, he swiped his tongue around the head. Yuuri fell back at the sensation, and a shiver seemed to roll through his body straight into Yuri's.  
  
Taking him in a bit at a time, Yuri soon had his mouth around most of Yuuri's cock. He worked himself into a rhythm of taking Yuuri as deep as he could before reversing to taste only the tip.  
  
Scattered between pleasure-peak moments where coherency was beyond him, Yuuri took to moaning and panting and choking out "Yuri", like it was all he knew.  
  
And god, Yuri was so fucking turned on by this.  
  
He'd always imagined what Yuuri's voice might sound like during sex--primarily taking inspiration from the different noises he would hear Yuuri make during practice or when enjoying food--but now he knew how paltry a substitute his imaginings were.  
  
Yuri was absorbed in taking it all in, the sounds and the taste of Yuuri; the scent and the sight of the man unraveling at his touch, but it still surprised him when Yuuri combed a hand through his blond hair and managed to work his mouth around the sigh, "You're the prettiest thing I'll ever see."  
  
The complement certainly didn't help prolong Yuri's release. In fact, with each noise he pulled from Yuuri, he could feel his own body getting closer and closer to the edge. He didn't want to come so soon, not without being touched by Yuuri--if they got that far--but his hips seemed to have a mind of their own, rocking against the knotted up bedding below.  
  
Yuuri's legs tightened against his sides, and his hands fisted into the comforter. He seemed to stutter out something else in Japanese; Yuri caught the sound of his own name.  
  
The blend of it all finally bowled Yuri over the edge. The orgasm hit him, making him gag on Yuuri's cock. He hastily released it from his mouth to rest his forehead in the fleshy dip of Yuuri's hip as he rode out the wave of ecstasy.  
  
He didn't have time to bemoan coming so soon before Yuuri's worry descended on him.  
  
"Are you alright? What's wrong?" Yuuri tried to sit up to check, but Yuri shook it off, pressing the man back down by his chest.  
  
Not to be deterred, Yuri set about getting right back into his rhythm on Yuuri's cock. He tried communicate just how alright he was through his eagerness to get back to it, but the fact that he came from Yuuri's sounds and words alone left him somewhat ashamed. He had wanted to save the last push for Yuuri. On the other hand, with Yuuri's touch or not, just being there with Yuuri, being able to touch _him_ , gave his orgasm a new level of euphoria he never experienced before.  
  
He tried to spare the attention to fondle Yuuri's sack, but it kept slipping his mind. Not at all accustomed to doing any of this, the overstimulation of remaining so attentive to everything else proved too much to keep up with certain thought threads.  
  
Yuuri's head fell back into his pillow. He panted at the ceiling and said to himself, "This has to be a dream."  
  
Yuri couldn't help the responding cynicism. "Don't you mean nightmare?" he pulled off to say.  
  
"N-no."  
  
Coming to an abrupt halt, Yuri straightened up to catch Yuuri's expression. "What do you mean 'no'?"  
  
"Please don't stop," the man whimpered.  
  
"What do you mean 'no'?"  
  
Yuuri threw an arm over his eyes. "I always think of you like this... Together with me."  
  
Somehow Yuri's heart rate seemed to speed up more. _You're lying._  
  
He must have said it aloud because Yuuri replied, "Not always together sexually, but still together. I l-like Yurio."  
  
Yuri's breath attempted to seal itself in his lungs. He rose up to plant a hand on either side of Yuuri's head. "Say it again."  
  
The man didn't remove his arm when he said in a soft hush, "I love Yuri."  
  
Yuri stared down at him, stunned.  
  
After a deep silence, Yuuri murmured, "What a pitiful dream this has become." He lifted his arm away and blinked up at the blond above him. A sad smile sunk into his features.  
  
"It's not a dream," Yuri repeated.  
  
Yuuri frowned, brows furrowing, but continued to blink at him. Eventually his eyes widened. "I just told Yuri how I feel."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Oh god." The older man seemed on the cusp of horror in an instant. "Oh god. Yuri, please don't think--"  
  
Seeing where this was going, Yuri snapped, "I feel the same, idiot. Why do you think I'm touching you like this?"  
  
Yuuri gaped. Then he clarified, "I mean that my feelings for you go beyond sex."  
  
"I know," Yuri said. "We're on the same page."  
  
There was another pause; this time neither of them knew what to say, but Yuri remembered his mission. He pulled back to his position between Yuuri's legs and took up his cock. He held the man's eyes as he returned to his ministrations.  
  
Yuuri seemed to enjoy this all the more now. By the time they found the perfect rhythm again, his fists were back to strangling the blanket, gone white with the pressure. Yuri reached up to cover one hand with his in silent support, and in response Yuuri's fist uncurled to lace their fingers together.  
  
Yuri thought he could get lost in the sensation of having another's fingers entwined with his. It wasn't anything he'd wondered about before, but now the weight of it was incredibly gratifying. He filed away these notes for later.  
  
He suspected Yuuri was getting close when it got to the point that the man's whole body trembled, but it was the shallow thrusts from him which made him certain.  
  
"Yuri--!" Yuuri cried, and then the orgasm wracked his body.  
  
Yuri tried to swallow Yuuri's come, but only managed taking some before he had to surface for a good breath of air.  
  
Panting, Yuuri pulled Yuri up his body. He dragged the blonde in for a kiss, cupping his jaw with each hand.  
  
It wasn't slow or fast, just a smooth blend from one kiss to the next that the two of them got lost in together. Yuri tried not to cling.  
  
They only pulled apart when air was scarce, leaving them to look one another in the eye. Though only one eye, as Yuri's hair fell into his face and curtained the other one. It obscured his vision of Yuuri's blissed out expression.

Yuuri reached up to brush the hair aside before Yuri could, tucking it gently behind the blond's ear. Then he just stared at Yuri, eyes darting over his face.  
  
"What?" Yuri asked. He felt the urge to hide behind his hair again.  
  
"I never get to see all of your face," Yuuri said. "Not so close up." He traced his fingers over the back of the blond's jawline. "I didn't know you have a mole here..."  
  
Embarrassed by the scrutiny, Yuri flinched back a little, loosening some of the hair to fall again. "I try not to draw attention to these things." He's never felt so insecure as just now.  
  
"Sorry. It's hard not to stare." Yuuri laughed sheepishly and sunk further into his pillow. "You're so beautiful it demands attention, but I only ever see part of you."  
  
A fresh flush flooded Yuri's cheeks. If possible, he felt more embarrassed now than when he was blowing Yuuri.  
  
"I want to see more," Yuuri went on. "But mostly I'm curious about what's going on up here." With an index finger, he prodded Yuri's forehead.  
  
Yuri was speechless for a moment. Then he groused, "You're a sap, Katsudon."  
  
Yuuri shrugged. "I find it easier to live that way."  
  
The older man moved Yuri closer again to explore his face. He fingered the soft skin under one of Yuri's eyes.  
  
"Even with you just inches away I can't name the color of your eyes," Yuuri commented. Then his eyes and fingers wandered lower to the blond's lips. He thumbed at Yuri's bottom lip and leaned in to place another kiss. Having Yuuri's brazen sincerity turned his way wasn't unusual these days, but it still often defied reply. All he could do was return the kiss with everything he had.  
  
One of Yuuri's hands snaked down between them, feeling for something.  
  
"What is it?" Yuri reluctantly broke the kiss.  
  
"I thought... I want to... Help you get off too."  
  
Mortification surged in Yuri. He buried his face in the hot curve of Yuuri's neck. "I already came," he admitted, and it was only because of his trust in the man that he could grit out the words.  
  
"Oh." Yuuri's hand slipped out from between them to lay on Yuri's back. "Because of this? Because of me?"  
  
The blond's head shot up. "Don't you dare make fun of me."  
  
Yuuri's brows shot up. "It didn't cross my mind. Actually, it's really flattering."  
  
The blond was too flustered to handle this. He only moved from the cozy juncture of Yuuri's neck when the man moaned, "God."  
  
"What?"  
  
Yuuri palmed over his eyes. "I'm hard again."  
  
Now that he mentioned it, it wasn't difficult to notice.  
  
"It feels like it'll never end," Yuuri groaned.  
  
"It will end," Yuri disagreed. He paused. "I'll help. I'm not doing anything else today."  
  
Yuuri laughed with a touch of hysteria. "Me either."  
  
When Yuuri dropped his hand away from his eyes, Yuri's were there to meet them. The man smiled his joy at Yuri, who for once wanted to match it. So he did.  
  
"I need to tell Viktor that practice isn't happening," Yuri remembered. "Otherwise he'll come looking for us."  
  
"Good idea." Yuuri opened his mouth to say more, but just then a scratching sound came from the door.  
  
They watched the door briefly before it was clear no one was going to burst in. Yuri took up the task to check, while Katsudon scrambled to cover himself.  
  
As ungraceful as the door was to move, Yuri overshot the distance he wanted to crack it open and ended up standing in the wide open doorway.  
  
His eyes drifted downward where the interloper sat in the hallway.  
  
Makkachin cocked his head at the blonde. A medium sized gift bag hung from the dog's mouth. He loped forward to pass the bag off to Yuri, who accepted it with high levels of suspicion.  
  
He read the tag on the handle saying, "Love Viktor (and Chris)" and grimaced. There was no preparation that could be done for whatever was inside that bag, he was certain, so he bravely peered inside to find a box of condoms and jar of lubricant. A curse jumped to the tip of his tongue, but was stalled when he also noticed a small booklet crowded against the inside wall of the bag.  
  
It was thin and looked like it was stapled together by a child, but the extravagant handwriting on the front suggested otherwise. As did the title:  
  
_How to Make Love  
by Christophe_  
  
"You fuckers!" Yuri spat, hoping somewhere, wherever they were, both Chris and Viktor could feel his disdain.  
  
Driven by a morbid curiosity, he skimmed through its pages, which contained the crude scrawlings of a lunatic, complete with lewd sketches of the two Yuris together.  
  
Quite ready to take a bite out of someone responsible, he looked up in time to see Makkachin trot to the front door across the way. Viktor's hand was just barely visible holding it open enough for the dog to escape outside.  
  
Before Yuri could speak, Viktor called inside, "Makkachin and I are going to bake with mama Katsuki. Don't forget to eat dinner!" Then they were gone.  
  
Yuri made a noise of disgust. He turned back into the room, gift bag in hand, and shut the broken door behind him.

 


End file.
